


Minor Technical Details

by entanglednow



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alien Technology, F/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Please tell me we're not currently engaged in a three-way with your ship."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Technical Details

  
The Doctor approaches sex with a sort of investigative enthusiasm that Amy would probably find hilarious if he wasn't so good at it. Though she's half convinced he's being good at it just to spite her. All sharp fingers and awkwardness somehow being sharp and awkward in all the right places. Which might explain some of the smug noises he makes every time she lets his mouth go.

The Doctor hasn't said anything stupid yet, which makes a nice change. Usually he'll say at least one stupid thing before she's even managed to get his bow tie off. She's given him a three strikes rule over that. Because expecting him not to say anything bizarre and borderline insulting is like asking him not to poke something that looks interesting and dangerous. Usually she'll let him get away with two; then find some way to put his mouth to better use. Which is how she'd also discovered he can hold his breath much, much longer than her. She's going to make a crack about him being part fish at some point, probably when they're in some sort of terrible fish-based peril, because that's how it seems to go.

He may be enthusiastic but he's also easily distracted. It's lucky he has more than enough hair to pull when she wants to make a point. Though he never does protest very hard, so Amy thinks he secretly likes it. She has the fingers bruises on her thighs to prove it, faded now, though never quite gone. But, much as she likes it hiked up on the console with her legs wrapped round his neck. She thinks today there will be sex, definitely sex.

The Doctor's shirt's made it all the way over the other side of the ship, draped over some dubious levers that do something mysterious. Something he's probably in the dark about too, since the manual's long gone. She's definitely going to say something about going back in time and clipping himself round the back of the head for doing that. Because, hello, manual to the magical, time-hopping, one-of-a-kind, spaceship. He'll probably whine about paradoxes and tip his head in that way that he thinks makes his hair look extra serious. Which never works as well as it should, considering he looks like an indie band member who just ran through the washing line of a substitute teacher.

Though she does vividly remember that time she woke up wearing nothing but his bow tie.

If she was a nine hundred year old alien she'd want to be either smoking hot or appropriately serious and commanding. She wouldn't want...well she probably wouldn't want this. Even if she will admit that _this_ , is currently doing a marvellous job of hiking her denim skirt up over her hips.

It's only fair to return the favour, so she pulls at the undone waistband of his trousers, hands sliding in and down and making all his breath drain out of him and rush over her throat.

Something rings sharply when she knocks into the console, sending two levers shuddering back. The Doctor mutters something that sounds a lot like an apology and Amy comes to a strange stop - because it occurs to her that he's not talking to her.

"Your ship - it's sentient, right? I mean it thinks and watches you and stuff."

He raises a finger, which loses some of its impact now he's only wearing his trousers. Mostly wearing his trousers.

"Ah, now that's a slightly more complicated question that you probably think."

"It's not complicated," Amy protests. "The ship, is it..." She flounders for a way to phrase it that won't sound creepy.

The Doctor's nodding again, nodding in that irritating way that suggests he still has no idea what she means. She catches her hand tight in his boxer shorts and pulls him in until he makes a little noise of surprise.

"It does know what we're doing," he offers.

Amy snatches her hands out of his trousers. "It knows?!"

"Of course it knows, it monitors everything." He gestures awkwardly, to indicate 'everything.' Including Amy, and Amy's breasts.

"Yes, but I mean it _knows_ , knows," Amy hisses.

The Doctor gives her the helplessly confused face.

She rolls her eyes at his ability to react to the simplest question like it's a social minefield he has no idea how to traverse.

"Please tell me we're not currently engaged in a three-way with your ship," Amy manages. She's impressed by how calm she makes that sound.

The Doctor pulls a face, it's mostly hair and pout. It's one she hasn't seen before.

"Technically speaking?" he asks.

"Any manner of speaking," Amy says firmly.

The Doctor tips his head back and forth, like he already knows the answer to that but he's trying to frame it in some way that won't get him into trouble.

Amy pokes him.

He huffs out a breath.

"In so far as the fact that it is, maybe, in the interests of honesty, rather enjoying it. Then I suppose strictly speaking, yes. It can feel everything that goes on inside it. Though it's not technically a participant."

Amy raises an eyebrow.

"Unless you want it to be -"

Amy raises the other eyebrow.

He points a fingers at her.

"You probably don't. I probably shouldn't have brought that up."

Amy puts her hands on her hips. Completely ignoring the fact that she's already half-naked.

"I'm in trouble now, aren't I?" He's already nodding.

Amy puts on her best 'you're in very serious trouble,' face. Then catches his waist and drags him in.

The Doctor makes a surprised noise when she jerks him round and shoves him into the metal.

"I think it's only fair that you get to be the one spread out on the controls. It's your ship and you can make it happy."

The console is briefly bright with just the faintest hint of blue. Something clicks sharply inside it.

"Now, that's just unfair," the Doctor mutters. Amy's fairly sure he isn't talking to her.

  



End file.
